


Hurts 2B Human

by writewithurheart



Series: Black Widow: The Redacted 5 Years [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Canonical Character Death, Finding Clint the first time, Gen, Missing Scene, Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Songfic, The Missing 5 Years, post snap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 13:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: They just watched their friends and family crumble into ash and now they have to pick up the pieces.





	Hurts 2B Human

**Author's Note:**

> I've been stewing in this for a while, and back when P!nk's latest album came out "Hurts 2B Human", I thought it fit perfectly with Natasha's journey, especially through the time that's skipped over in Endgame. It's part of the inspiration for this series that I am slowly but surely writing. I highly recommend listening to the whole album, but that's where the title comes and the title song is specifically the inspiration for this piece.

**Hurts 2B Human **

Steve has a way with words. Natasha both hates and loves him for it. He’s the man who convinced a building full of SHIELD agents to stand up against Hydra, who convinced a ragtag gang of men to follow him in the trenches of World War II, convinced her and Sam to fight with him not once but twice. He’s a leader of men. He makes them want to stand up for humanity, to fight for that amorphous greater good. 

He’s the one who stood on a hill and gave an inspiring speech as Earth made her final stand against a giant purple alien. Steve could give a passionate speech off the cuff that would make men lay down their lives. Even against the impossible odds that they were facing. 

Now he’s lost, crumpled on the ground, grabbing at the spot where Bucky crumbled into dust with Steve’s name on his lips. 

Natasha looks around and locks eyes with Okoye. Thor is staring at the axe in his hands. Bruce and the racoon standing around him, offering comfort. She tries to catch Bruce’s eye but he is purposely avoiding eye contact. 

“You should gather your people. Get a head count,” Natasha says to Okoye. Her eyes are locked on Steve, bracing herself for what she’s about to do. “The world is going to be reeling. We’ll need a point of contact. Can you do that?” 

Okoye nods. “I’ll get back to the palace. We’ll meet there.” 

Natasha walks over to Steve, slowly. Each step weighs on her soul. She knows what Steve lost. She can’t imagine losing Clint the way he lost Bucky. And then losing him again. She’s seen him cling to hope as if it were oxygen. This Steve though: he has no hope. 

“Steve,” she mutters, crouching to his level. 

“He’s gone. I failed him. I failed them all.” 

She swallows at the pain in Steve’s voice. It’s hoarse, thick with the grit of withheld tears. All she can do is reach out to pull him into a hug, as foreign as the motion is to her. Steve leans into the contact and the tears break free from his body in great shuddering sobs. 

Natasha can’t let her tears go. Not yet. Her heart is still across the world, fate unknown, and she’s got the rest of the planet to worry about now. 

… 

The team is held together by scraps. It’s her, Steve, and Bruce who are barely clinging to life, all their hope centered on a small black pager that Rhodey recovered beside Nick Fury’s car. 

Natasha doesn’t feel anything but despair anymore. She just keeps moving forward. 

She held it together through the reports of death tolls as the number of missing skyrocketed. Entire families were wiped from the Earth in the Snap. Loved ones gone in a moment. She had stared at name after name after name before she had managed to commandeer a quinjet and fly to the farm. 

Clint was there, a baseball mitt in his hands. He didn’t speak a word to her when she asked after Laura and the kids. He just sat there. Blank. Even when she dragged him back to the upstate facility that they converted to a crisis center and a home base, he said nothing. For three days he wandered in and out of rooms, staring at lists. 

Rhodey tried to talk to him. 

Pepper. 

Even Bruce who still wouldn’t talk to Nat. 

He said nothing. 

And then he exploded. 

It’s the reports of rising criminal activity in the cities that does it. Nat is preparing to help suppress gang activity in New York when Clint finally moves with purpose. Without prompting, he has his bow in hand and a blade slung across his back. 

Steve steps forward to stop him, but Natasha shakes her head. She doesn’t like the presence of the blade either. It symbolizes a past that Clint locked away when he met Laura. It’s return isn’t a good omen. Grief manifests itself in odd ways though, so she stands aside. 

Clint flies her and Steve into the center of Manhattan, to Stark Tower. The city's a mess: cars crashed from people disappearing mid-drive, broken glass shattered on the pavement from people scavenging in the immediate aftermath, rotten food fills the air with its pungent odor. Clint leads the way through it all with long stalking steps. 

Steve hangs back with Nat, eyeing Clint skeptically. 

“We should have left him back at base.” 

Nat purses her lips. She can’t find it in her to argue the fact. This Clint is lost and grieving. It’s not the regret that dogged him after Loki. This is worse. But Nat won’t let him do something he regrets. 

They find Kingpin in a warehouse by the docks, stockpiling weapons. He’s got a cohort of gang members and is in the middle of strong arming some poor looking man when they burst through the doors. What neither she nor Steve expect is the ferocity with which Clint goes after the men holding the man at gunpoint. 

Steve heads right for Fisk and Natasha follows in his wake, one eye on Clint to make sure he doesn’t need assistance. He completes his task with brutal efficiency, dispatching the guards as if they were mannequins. But there are no kill shots and the sword stays sheathed. 

“Captain,” Fisk speaks loudly, voice tight but welcoming. “What brings you down to my humble abode.” 

“Heard you were trying to take advantage of the chaos,” Steve answers in as bland a tone as he can manage. “Heard you were still supposed to be serving time.” 

Fisk shrugs. “Hard to say, what with all the guards vanishing into thin air. Rumor has it your little crew of...heroes...had something to do with that.” 

Natasha curls her lip in distaste and turns away from Fisk to poke at the canned food stacked up on the table. It looks like they raided the nearest fifteen stores for all their nonperishables. Another table holds guns, ammo, knives. There’s a smaller one with electronics, and stuffed in the back, Natasha is sure is a drug running operation. 

“You also murdered three guards and have taken up extortion since breaking out. We’re here to take you back in custody.” Steve has his hands folded nicely in front of him, as though this is a nice, friendly request. 

“That’s it?” Clint shouts, suddenly. 

Natasha jumps at his voice and spins to face him as he advances on Steve and Fisk. “Clint,” she says softly, reaching for his arm. 

He shakes her off, eyes only for Steve. “He murders people, tortures others, and who knows what else, and that’s all? We what? Turn him over to what little authority remains?” Clint’s voice rises in anger. 

Steve frowns. “That’s why we’re here.” 

“Why-” Clint cuts himself off with an inarticulate growl. “You mean to tell me that this piece of shit gets to walk around - gets to  _ keep breathing _ \- and my family is gone?” 

“Clint.” Nat reaches for him once more. 

“No!” He shouts at her. “My family died and this scum gets to live. Where is the justice in that?” 

Clint rips the sword from his back and Steve and Fisk both fall back a step. Natasha is the only one to step forward. She has to swallow her own grief. Mentally she knew this could happen here. She hoped it wouldn’t. She’s just not that lucky. 

“There isn’t,” she says with a sad smile. “There’s no justice. Just senseless violence. But we’re going to find him, Clint. We’re going to find Thanos and we’re going to get them all back. I just need you to hang on. Can you do that?” 

The frantic light in Clint’s eyes calms the slightest but. “It’s not fair, Tash. It’s not fair.” 

She nods, her own eyes brimming with tears. “I know, Clint. I know. But we’re going to get them back. I promise. I promise.” She keeps muttering her promises into his hair as Clint collapses against her, sword abandoned. 

Steve takes the moment to grab Fisk and nods at her in understanding. There’s nothing about this that doesn’t hurt. Why are they still alive? Why were certain people left while others crumbled? 

There is no logic. Only pain. And hope that they can fix this. 

God, she hopes they can. Natasha doesn’t know what she’ll do if they can’t.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to know what you think! Thanks for reading!


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